Phoenix (11 page)

She's right. As angry as I am, it's not worth losing control over. Beck lied. Again. He's keeping secrets and sneaking around. With Ryker. Which somehow makes it all seem even worse.
 

Images of the two of them laughing at my stupidity fill my brain. "Did he think I wouldn't find out? Did he think I was so dumb that I could be lied to?"

Kyra bites her lip. "I think he thought he could get away with it – at least long enough to come up with a plan to tell you."

My breath is fast and uneven. "Do you think he had anything to do with the abductions?"
 

Kyra avoids my eyes and furrows her brow. "No. But he's acting poorly. Maz better not be mixed up in all this. I'll flay him."

I understand she's saying this for my benefit, but I don't mind. I would too, in her place. She doesn't want me condemning him to a northern work crew again.

"What should I do?" I ask.

"Confront him?" she offers. "Tell him you know. Demand he tell you where Ryker is."

I shake my head. "No. He would just lie. I need to catch him in the act."

"And how will you do that?"

"He's bound to make a mistake at some point. He's Beck. He's a terrible liar."

My manic pacing builds up a charge of magical energy, and I fling it at a nearby chair. It combusts.
 

Kyra sighs, and water falls on the burning chair. "That bad, huh?"

"Worse. You have no idea how hard I'm trying to hold myself together. All I want to do right now is blow up a building. Eamon better hope I don't run into him because this time, there would be no disappearing. I'd expose all of us to the people of San Francisco."
 

Outside, dark storm clouds gather, and wind lashes the windows. The once gorgeous blue day vanishes, replaced by a dull gray.

"You?" Kyra asks.

"Yes."

Rain pelts the house, and the rougher the storm becomes, the better I feel. Give no bother that the weather forecast called for clear skies. What I need is a good old-fashioned storm. I unfurl my hand, and strong gusts of wind shake the house.

"Careful, Lark. San Francisco isn't built to withstand a hurricane."

I whip my hand around, and the wind slows enough to appease Kyra.

"I hope he's out in it and gets soaked," I say. "I hope he catches one of those nasty diseases Bethina was always going on about if we didn't bundle up and stay dry."

Kyra sighs. "Do you want me to stay with you? We could look at the feeds or watch something on the wallscreen."

"No. I need to collect myself and get ready for when Beck gets home. I don't want him to know what I know."

"You need to calm down. What can I do?" Kyra asks.

I kick at the corner of my sofa as I pass it. "Give me space. I need to work off some of this energy." The lights flicker, and with each blackout, the need to explode lessens.

Kyra studies me closely. "Okay, if you're sure. Gossip feeds always help me when I'm mad at Maz."

"I'm positive. The gossip feeds would probably upset me more."
 

She taps her wristlet, as if checking something. "Yeah, don't read those tonight. It's all about your new hairstyle and clothes. Your hairdresser was right; you're a trendsetter."

"Wonderful. One more ridiculous thing for me to worry about."

"Aw, Lark, don't worry about it. Just be you."

It's a nice thing to say, but I don't know who I am half the time. I can't say that to Kyra though.

She scoops up her satchel. "If you don't want me, I'm going home."

"Kyra?"
 

She stops mid-step and looks at me. "Yes?"

"You can't tell Maz. That's an order." I mutter a quick tongue-tying spell.

"Really, Lark? You don't trust me?" Hurt peppers her words.

"I know you too well. I need to be careful."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Beyond the press conference, I've given very little thought to the Founders' Ball. It seems like the last thing I should be worrying about.

I also shouldn't be standing in a store, dress hunting. I should be doing something more important - like finding Ryker or hunting down Eamon.

And yet, I'm not because I stuck on obsessing about the Founders' Ball and whether I'll able to keep up appearances. Forget the possibility of attacking Beck - which I don't think will happen - I have to pretend, in a public space for hours, not to be upset with him. How am I supposed to do this? Especially given the way he's lying to me.

A rack of sleek dresses stands before me, and I eye them with disinterest. Kyra, however, is running her hands over all of them, eyeing them like delicious pastries. Annalise sits in the corner. Dark circles ring her eyes, and her complexion is an unusual shade of green.

"Excuse me for a moment," Annalise says, before hurrying from the room.

"She's sick," Kyra says. "Has been for days, but she won't admit it. I saw Eloise giving her an elixir earlier today."

Without taking a breath, she continues. "I want to wear purple. Is that okay with you, Lark?" Since the attacks, Kyra's been put on administrative leave which means she gets to attend the Ball as a guest rather than my guard.
 

I glance at her. If she's mad about the tongue-tying spell, she isn't letting on. Maybe I should take some lessons in deception from Kyra.

"Purple would look great on you." I don't bother to mention that I wouldn't be caught dead in purple because that's what everyone expects of me. "I'm looking more for something with beads, sequins, or lace."

Since it's just the two of us, I take the opportunity to ask the questions most pressing in my mind.

"Kyra, does Beck seem different to you?"

She shimmies a violet dress over her hips. "What do you mean?"

"Does he seem angrier, less like his mellow self?"

"Is this about yesterday?" Kyra admires her figure in the wall mirror.
 

I nod.

"Well, now that you ask, he does seem different. More
deso
, you know?"

Deso isn't the word I'd use. He's been erratic and a liar. Probably learned behavior from me.

The shop girl knocks on the door. "Miss Lark, may I enter?"

"Of course."
 

She carries a pale blue gossamer dress.

"This one is lovely, Miss Lark," the shop girl says, holding it out so the skirt flares away from the bodice. "Notice the intricate beading and soft fringe around the hem line."

"Oh, Lark," Kyra exclaims. "That's the dress. It has to be."

"It's the finest in the shop," the shop girl says. "It's also the most expensive."

I wave my hand. Cost is no factor for me. "What do you wear under it?" I ask.

The shop girl blushes. "Nothing."
 

"You mean, I wear nothing under it at all?"
 

"Perhaps a few support garments, if you feel they are needed."

"Your nipples will show!" Kyra touches my arm before fingering the sheer fabric. "Not to mention your scars."

I lock eyes with her. "Good. Let them see I'm a fighter. That nothing can stop me." I step out of my day dress and hold my hands over my head while the shop girl dresses me. "I'm battle-hardened now, Kyra. That counts for something."

Kyra gnaws at her inner lip, a nervous habit I've never noticed before. "Beck is different," she says. "But so are you. You're more...I don't know, calculating?"
 

Before I can answer, Annalise ducks back into the room. "Excuse us for a minute?" she says to the shop girl and Kyra.

The shop girl bows her head and scurries away, leaving me wearing just the sheer sheath, but Kyra lingers.
 

"Go, Kyra. I need to speak to Lark privately."

My friend slinks from the room, clearly upset over being sent out with the help.

The room is chilly, so I conjure a warming spell.
 

"I watched you during the interview." Annalise pauses, as if trying to figure out what to say next. "The questions weren't to your liking until the end."

I nod while admiring my figure in the mirror. "Do you like this dress?" I shake my hips to make the fringe swing. "It's fun, isn't it? But is it appropriate for the Founder's Ball?"

"Lark, we need to talk. And not about dresses."

I turn my head toward her. "Fine. What do you need?"

"You didn't like some of the questions." It's a statement, and it sounds accusatory.

"Well, the Ryker comment surprised me."

Just saying Ryker's name makes my blood boil.
 

I don't tell Annalise that I suspect Beck knows where Ryker is, or is possibly hiding him. Leave that for me to deal with. And deal with it I will.

"Speaking of which, the public has received the news about Beck, and your claiming him as your mate, very well."

I smile. It's a smug smile. The kind one uses when they're getting away with things they shouldn't. The faster the public forgets my binding to Ryker, the better. "I did just fine, as Henry would say. His training must have helped."

"You controlled James, didn't you?"

My smirk grows. "I thought of what I wanted him to ask, and he asked it. If that's magic, then yes, I controlled him."

"And you did the same during the morning announcements, didn't you. On the part about the food shortages?"

My mouth drops open. "Did it not work?"

"Don't worry, it doesn't work on others who have the power of persuasion – Kyra, me, and a handful of others. That's why Malin was always searching us out. Best to keep us close so we can't set the people straight."

"Can any Light witches influence?"

"No. It's a Dark power, just like we can't grow or heal."

Annalise sits in the tufted chair, and her long, dark ponytail hangs over her shoulder. "I need to tell you something. About Malin." She fidgets as if unsure of herself. How odd. Annalise is never unsure. "At least I think I'm right, but you have to hear what I'm going to say and decide yourself."

I stop fussing with the exquisite dress and study my sister-in-law. Her voice is so soft, so un-Annalise-like that I can't help but worry.

"What is it?"

She exhales. "When I was about eight years old, Malin selected me from all the other little girls in my house for a visit with her. I was so excited and honored, but the thing is, she was testing me - both as a mate for Callum and for my powers. I see that now."

I stare at my guard. I'm not sure how this has anything to do with Beck and Ryker, the interview, or the Ball.
 

"Up until that day, I'd always been able to creep into people's minds." Annalise wiggles her fingers to mimic walking. "See what they were thinking, so to speak."

"How is that possible?" I ask, holding up my hands and stopping her. "We witches aren't mind readers, and you were just a child. Not even close to sixteen."

Annalise nods. "That's what Malin wanted everyone to believe - she believed it herself, until she met me."

"So you can read minds?" I ask in disbelief. Immediately, I begin guarding myself mentally. Everything makes so much sense now - the way she knew about Beck and me; the way she always seemed a step ahead of us.
 

"Not anymore." There's so much sorrow and anger in her words. "Malin stole my power."

"
What
? How?"

"After that day with her - when I was eight - I was never able to see into another person's thoughts, but I often suspected she could."

"How would she steal your power, Annalise? That's unheard of."

My sister-in-law's eyes fill with tears. "Why don't you tell me? I've never seen you able to influence people until the interview. That's my power, and there you were, doing it. Without having to touch James. How, Lark? How? And why can I still do it? Why haven't you stripped it from me completely?"

I recoil. "What are you saying? I stole your power?" I squish up my forehead. "Or I stole Mother's powers?"

"No. I'm saying, like at Kyra's binding, you somehow are able to draw on other's powers and make them stronger. I think that's the secret of the Greene family. It's why you're all so strong."

Kyra knocks on the door. "May I return?"

"In a moment," I say, and shoo her away with the back of my hand.

"Annalise, if what your saying is true, then I have no real power, just that of those around me."

She shakes her head. "Oh no, you're strong, Lark. You can do plenty on your own." Her voice hitches. "Before he died, Oliver and I were researching the origins of the Greene family. I know all about Northwoods, or at least what happened there when Malin was a teen, and I have a strong suspicion you're on the same path."
 

"As my mother? You think I'm going to blow up my home and kill someone?"

As the words leave my mouth, I realize how ridiculous I sound - I've already done these things.
 

Annalise rests her hand on her stomach and closes her eyes as if trying to steady herself. "Yes. From what Oliver and I could tell, you can tap into other people's power, and it makes your own power stronger. It's why she asked you to blow the roof off the binding hall – Malin wanted to see if you could harvest our powers. And you did."

"And you think I alone have this ability?"

"Yes," her lips press together tightly before she exhales. "More importantly, I believe Malin was grooming you to steal your powers."

I fall heavily into the chair. "She was going to leave me vulnerable? That's why she only wanted me to practice offensive magic?"

"That's the conclusion Oliver and I came to."

I gnaw at my inner cheek, thinking over all the implications. If Annalise is right, I can pull magic from anyone, including Light witches - which would explain how I saved Beck. It would also explain why I can grow crops - I've only ever done so with Henry. And it would explain a lot of my mixed-up behaviors.

"Kyra," I say peeking my head out from the heavy red velvet curtain separating us. "Can you come in for a moment?"

My best friend pops in, clearly annoyed at being sent out in first place. "What do you want?" She has her arms folded over her chest and a pout on her lips.